


The Fateful Flight

by valuna



Series: When Worlds Collide [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-03 15:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The atart of a beautiful friendship begins on a shuttle flight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fateful Flight

It's an accident that Leonard McCoy lands in the seat next to James Kirk, the guy with the bruised face and puffy lip. He'd rather be in the bathroom with no windows, where he can't see the vast darkness of space, catalog the dangers. But after introductions, it's obvious fate has other plans. They connect, to use the 20th-century cliché, even though they have nothing in common.

Well, almost nothing. During the brief flight, McCoy makes mental notes. They're both headed to Starfleet Academy and, from their state of disheveled dress, they're last-minute recruits. And they both like the whiskey in his small flask. During the brief flight, McCoy learns little of Kirk's past, but he suspects daddy issues. Okay, it's a first-year psych student's diagnosis, but Kirk doesn't offer details about his family. It's not like McCoy waxes poetic about his upbringing, and he'd rather not mention the ex any more than necessary.

Maybe they have more in common than they think. Or more than McCoy wants to admit. He likes being the loner, and makes an uncommitted grunt when Kirk says "call me Jim." That's personal.

By the time the shuttle lands, they've progressed from strangers to awkward friends, and McCoy's sure he's that guy at the bar who just doesn't want to drink alone and can't say no to the boisterous regular who plops down beside him. They're not the first to stand, and McCoy notices the grinning leer Kirk gives the female cadet as she passes. _What was her name? Shit._ They meander to their feet, moving forward in a flight-enhanced alcohol haze. Kirk stumbles out of the shuttle, McCoy on his heels, the two of them almost landing flat on their faces.

It might be better if they'd hit the grass. As it is, they're face to face with a Starfleet captain. McCoy remember his name.

"You two connected at the hip?" Capt. Christopher Pike asks. "Head to the Quartermaster, Building 16." He shoves a holopad into Kirk's hand. "Think you can manage to navigate?"

Kirk straightens, clears his throat, looks offended. "Uh, yeah." He stares at the image illuminating off the pad.

"Three years?" Pike shakes his head. "If you're here after three weeks, Kirk, we'll have a party."

"I'll take care of him, Sir." McCoy smiles, takes the pad and points Kirk across the quad. "Order the Saurian brandy."

"Where we going, Leonard?" Kirk asks as Pike walks off in the other direction.

"Quartermaster. And don't call me Leonard." McCoy looks at the map again. "It's that way. Just walk in a straight line."

"Can't do, Len," Kirk says, lopsided grin puffing his lip more. "Never been one for straight lines. Too dull."

McCoy sighs, gets an arm around Kirk's shoulder and nudges him in the right direction. "Don't call me Len either," he says, getting more defensive. He'd just as soon forget his first name and how it was spewed off the ex's tongue. "Well, for today, you're a dull boy. Go straight."

"Yes, Sir, Dr. McCoy," Kirk snaps, trying for a salute, failing miserably.

That just doesn't sound right, makes McCoy feel ancient even though there's only a few years between him and Kirk, years soaked in a bad marriage.

"You got a middle name? Nickname? Can't call you Dr. McCoy. Not if we're roommates."

"Why not? It's good." McCoy winces when Kirk steps on his foot. _And it keeps you from getting so damned personal. Roommates? No._ "Damnit, Kirk, straighten up." He pushes Kirk more upright, and though the younger man seems looped, McCoy suspects it's more act than reality.

"Can't. Sorry. Just bent this way." Kirk runs the words together at warp speed. "We're going to room together. Trust me. And call me Jim."

"Sure, Jim," McCoy says, agreeing though he knows it's unlikely they'll be together. Doctors don't room with starship captains. He motions toward the Quartermaster's building in front of them. "Think you can get through the door without help?"

Kirk shrugs away from McCoy's side, maybe a half step, and shakes his head, obviously dislodging the whiskey cobwebs. "Uniforms first, then find our room." He pauses. "Uh, Dr. McCoy." Then frowns.

There's that look again, the pout McCoy's sure Kirk uses on every woman he meets. _It's infectious. He should come with a warning label._

"Bones," McCoy says, almost not rolling his eyes, "you can call me Bones. Med school nickname."

Kirk grins, his lips almost puckering when he says it. "Bones. I like it."


End file.
